


Stolen Time

by kateberthld



Series: The Way I See You [2]
Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, The best brew yanno, a little bit of both
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 06:49:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10679946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kateberthld/pseuds/kateberthld
Summary: A night into Holtzmann's mind.





	Stolen Time

Your lips rest on the hollow of my throat, your head finding home in the crook of my neck.

 

Radioactivity is not the reason for the warm and tingly feeling when you lay like this in my arms. It's nothing describable; nothing, even with our brilliant minds, you can flesh out with words.

 

You being naked under the sheets with me is not it either (that, my love, makes me lose my mind more than anything else.)

 

The warm fingertips gliding on my bare arm ignite my body faster than wild fire. It's better than anything involved with fire that I've felt before.

 

You've seen the marks of proof mapped across my body, of course.

 

Ran your brilliant hands on them.

 

Traced them.

 

Imprinted them in your wonderful mind.

 

The fire that your touch brings leaves the best scorch within me, and I doubt I'll ever want to extinguish it. Not even the amount of fire extinguishers I've just ordered could put it out.

 

\---

It's a blur.

 

It's all a blur, and the only thing I can focus on is _you_.

 

"--Come here often?"

 

Static runs through my leathered hand when I raise yours up to my lips. I hope you felt it. Because it's in my bones, in my blood, in my mind.

 

And by God, if you didn't feel it like how you looked it, I must be out of my mind.

 

Well.

 

More than I already am.

 

\---

Silence envelops us in it's comfortable cold, allowing us to huddle closer, to press our bodies together. I can't help being like a puzzle piece finding it's match.

 

**Beautiful**.

 

Our lips get caught together in ease, the softness from each pair echoing through the night.

 

A bid goodnight.

 

One that we've been both accustomed to from hundreds of night spent in each other's arms.

 

\--

Your alarm rings, a warning for the big bang of the day. I can't say I haven't got used to it after five short years with you.

 

Your lips finds home on the swell of my cheek, your glorious legs come free from our tangled hold.

 

"Shit. I need to go."

 

The fire consumes me. Stolen moments, stolen kisses, stolen warmth. Not mine to feel, not mine to touch. Yet it grabs me by the shoulders, keeping me in a tight hold.

 

As if I'd fight back.

 

"Erin?"

 

"Yes, Holtz?"

 

"You might want to cover your neck up. It's nothing you want him to see."

 

Time is not ours to take advantage of. Yet, I grapple it for myself because I'm selfish. I'm selfish when it comes to you.

 

But I know you have to go. _I_ have to go.

 

He'll get worried if the both of us don't come out soon. Especially you.

 

Understandable.

 

I would, too.

 

The milky spanse of your back faces me as you pull on articles of clothing that never quite stayed over your skin long enough to be called 'used.'

 

You look **beautiful**.

 

I almost tell you, words hanging on the tip of my tongue, but I know you'd appreciate it more later. Later, when you're not rushing about, trying to chase time.

 

"Holtz, he's three. He'll think I just accidentally got bitten by something and worry over it like you do."

 

A warm smile spreads across my smile, and I shake out the tangled mess that rests upon my head.

 

William Gilbert, son of Erin and Jillian Gilbert-Holtzmann. Totally not named after another Gilbert who made his mark in history years before you have.

 

And he's beautiful. Like you.

 

I'm less than that, I think, every time I see you with him.

 

Infinitely, when I delay the inevitable.

 

Infinitely, when I slip tablets of medicine into my mouth, and smile as if my body doesn't hurt one bit.

 

Infinitely when I'm just a rose in it's protective bubble, fading away in due time.

 

Infinitely when time becomes mine to take advantage of.

 

I grapple for it, yet I know I'm losing my grip.

 

It won't take long until I'm six feet deep.


End file.
